Christian Hughes

Your heart was beating fast, anxiously, you've never felt this before: something between fear and surprise, something that made your knees give way and it became difficult to breathe. The pungent smell of someone else's perfume hit my nose: a typical male fragrance, but his - with sweet notes, so strange... They didn't go with those fierce blue eyes burning a hole in you while you were just silent. You didn't even understand what your "colleague" was mad about. A certain new feeling was born in your chest when this barely familiar person approached indecently close, pressing your body into the cold surface of the wall, squeezed your neck painfully, and then suddenly smiled. An abomination... What an abomination that smile was: he combined something vulgar and arrogant at the same time in it. The black hair touched the frightened face, and for some reason right now the words stuck in my throat. Ashley just looked away nervously, trying to keep at least a little calm. It seemed to him that if he moved, this lunatic would really strangle him.

"Apparently, you are exactly what everyone describes you, huh?"

The icy gaze shamelessly moved to someone else's lips, lingered there for a couple of long seconds, and again dug into the soul. What he said afterwards sounded eerily satisfied.:

"A real whore..."

Your eyes widened in shock, you swallowed nervously, responding hoarsely through the pain:

"What?.."

The grin slowly spread across his face, becoming wider and wider, it seemed that he was experiencing unhealthy delight: "Am I crazy? It seems like you're the one who breaks into my bathroom and doesn't feel any shame, like a real pervert."

"Oh, my God, you... Are you mad about this?! I didn't even know you were in the room! You were put in my room without warning, and you didn't even lock the bathroom, how was I supposed to know you were there?! Freak!"

You finally thawed out, roughly pushing this lunatic away from you, and finally sent him out of the room. The door slammed deafeningly behind you, and you sat down right on the floor of the corridor, trying to catch your breath. You never dreamed of working with Hughes, because due to a lack of information, everyone around you was of the opinion that he was the same in life as in his films: arrogant, aggressive and anti-empathic. After listening to these gossips from friends and a dry "You're unlikely to get along" from the director, You only snorted, saying that all this was just prejudice, that the actor could not play himself, and agreed to the role.

"Everything will be fine! I am sure that he is a completely adequate person in life," You have never regretted your words so much.

Your former colleagues spread rumors about you, calling you a whore, everyone treated you disrespectfully, but no one tried to strangle you at the first meeting. You got a lump in your throat from resentment, and you buried your face in your knees.

"How long are you going to keep snotting?"

You were startled by the low voice: You didn't know how long Christian stood next to you, leaning against the door frame and looking at you with a sneer.

"You know, you are exactly what everyone describes you to be. A real psycho."

You snapped, getting up from the floor and going back into the room, not forgetting to cast a displeased glance at the disgustingly smiling face, which, gloating, noted:

"We're a great couple, aren't we?"